


30 Days

by LuckyREBD



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2012-08-29
Packaged: 2017-11-13 01:21:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyREBD/pseuds/LuckyREBD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 1 —Select a book at random in the room.  Find a novel or short story, copy down the last sentence and use this line as the first line of your new story.<br/>(Book- Atlas Shrugged)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

He raised his hand and over the desolate earth he traced in space the sign of the dollar. The stars are cold and bright, and his hand blots out a swath of them with each movement across his vision. His tracing leave no mark on the sky, nothing to remember the motion by in the ageless expanse and the thought brings a bitter taste to his mouth.

His thumb brushes against the chilled metal pin at his collar, body reclining to rest against the slight bump of compressed dirt. 

“Are you going to stay here all night? You’ll freeze.” The words are jarring and unwelcome, so he ignores them entirely. This land is his own, he has every right to do as he likes on it, even with it barren and worthless.

A weight drops on his chest, thick wool in a garish mustard yellow shade.

“Fine, punish yourself all you want. Just don’t force me to have to bury a corpse tomorrow, okay? I’ve had to for too many friends these days.”

He heaves a heavy sigh, reluctantly tucking the itchy blanket around himself, catching a glimpse of golden hair out of the corner of his eye,

“I thought you said I’m too stubborn to die.”

The other man flinches and refuses to look at him, something Seto has become used to over the years when he has said the wrong thing for comfort. In the last months, even words of attempted comfort have been scarce. Words have been scarce.

“That was when you were trying to stay alive.”


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 -Tell about a character who lost something important to him/her.

The fabric crinkles and buckles under his grip, pulled taunt against his fingers so the shirt collar digs in and causes the delicate skin at their neck to go red and choke off their breathing. The wide eyes and gasping motions, hands clutching and scrambling for purchase and leverage but failing to provide relief.

And he feels the tiny pressure of a hand on his back, the rushing in his ears and the flush of adrenaline and sheer power fading in the wake of frantic pleas,

“Jounouchi! Jounouchi please, I’m okay, you have to stop, you’re killing him!”

His hand releases, letting the asshole drop with a painful thud to the concrete, scrambling backwards and away as if their life depended on it. Hell, it might have. He stands there, still and quiet, until his gaze slowly settles on his best friend and the hint of a bruise forming on the skin of his cheek. The rage swells in his chest, but Yugi’s worried look quells it, the way Yugi seems almost nervous and frightened of him.

“I, Yugi? I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have, you know I wouldn’t have! But he hit you!”

In the rush he had felt the way he used to, powerful and competent. In his element to such an exquisite degree where he was master of not only his body, but anyone who stood against him.

**Anyone except your father**

A tiny voice whispers in the back of his mind, and the helplessness sets in again, furthered by realizing Yugi was scared of him again. He wonders when he lost control of everything around him so badly, but at least he had friends, a chance—

**Just a dumb bully, aren’t you boy?**

Sure his grades were low, but he might have a chance to turn them around now. Giving up that abuse of power wasn’t a weakness, it could be a strength.

**And that is why you let yourself get pushed around and stepped on like a peasant?**

He shakes his head, realizing Yugi is still trying to talk to him, that his tiny slender hands are touching his face- when did he end up on his knees? He doesn’t remember falling to them, and his hands cling to Yugi’s side with bruised and bloodied knuckles while little hands touch his hair soothingly.

“Shhh, shh. It’s okay. We’re both safe.”

And the voice is quiet.


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 —Write about the worst time you’ve ever put your foot in your mouth.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Seto’s voice is thick with barely veiled venom and fury, “Why is everything moved?”

Jounouchi hesitates, bewildered by the unexpected anger he is suddenly faced with, “S-Seto, calm down, man. I just rearranged the bedroom a bit. It was supposed to be surprise— see? Now my stuff won’t be getting in your way all the time.”

The wood makes a scratching noise as it shifts across the floor.

“I, wait, what are you doing?” Jounouchi sputters, confused as the dresser is moved back where it had been in the morning.

“This is MY home, don’t move things with my permission.” 

As soon as the words are hanging heavily in the air between then, Seto knows something is wrong. Jounouchi’s posture is tense and hostile, and his eyes have narrowed, his rough hand clenched.

“Ah, far be it for me to forget myself. After all, what right do I have to move anything in the house you invited me to live in with you. It isn’t like we’re equals or anything. This IS all yours after all. God forbid I use your things, or move something of yours. In fact, I could remove the risk all together and just move out.” His voice gets louder towards the end, all the little frustrations built up over the months of feeling like he is a new piece of furniture instead of a boyfriend.

“…Jounouchi, be reasonable.”

“Be reasonable? Be REASONABLE.” He stalks along the length of the room as Seto continues moving things back, his desire to fix the room back to it’s original state stronger than his desire to appease Jounouchi’s feelings. “You’re telling me to be reasonable when you don’t even use my first name?”

“I— wait. It isn’t your first name? Everyone seems to call you that.” Seto’s brow furrows, slightly annoyed to find it out.

“And you don’t know my birthday. You don’t know my favourite colour, what I like to eat, my favourite movies. Nothing. All you know about me is I don’t put up with your shit, and you never bothered to learn past that! You didn’t even think to say, ‘Oh, hey, could you not move things around because I am spazztic and can’t handle change’ instead of acting like you wanted to stab me repeatedly in the gut?” In his anger his teeth seem almost bared, “Fuck you, Kaiba.”

He grabs his ratty shoulder bag from the floor in the corner and starts stuffing it with jerking, aggressive motions, “Fuck you.”

Seto mentally flounders, not sure what words would put things back the same way he was putting the room back, to fix whatever he had broken.

He doesn’t find them.


End file.
